


in the salt and swell

by lesbianryuko



Series: Merribela Week 2020 [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: (brief/not really described in depth), 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/F, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Golden Age of Piracy, Nudity, Pirates, Shipwrecks, why does varric keep popping up in these
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianryuko/pseuds/lesbianryuko
Summary: After she and her crew end up shipwrecked, Isabela encounters a mermaid.
Relationships: Isabela/Merrill (Dragon Age)
Series: Merribela Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644226
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Merribela Week 2020





	in the salt and swell

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this was written for day 2 of merribela week (which was yesterday but it's fine lmao) using the prompts "ocean" and "mythology"! title from "the ocean" by against me!

_if i could have chosen where god would hide his heaven  
i’d wish for it to be in the salt and swell of the ocean _

_Sailing into the storm was a gamble,_ she’d say about it later.

And what a gamble it was.

But they’d had little choice, being chased by three French ships hellbent on getting their goods back. They’re pirates, not Vikings, and rather than get their asses thoroughly handed to them in a naval battle, Captain Isabela had decided to sail directly into an oncoming storm, figuring that it would either scare the French away or do them in, too.

She was right about that part, and they got away with several famous paintings, all worth her weight in gold, that she’d promised a former acquaintance in exchange for freeing his slaves. The storm wasn’t finished with them, though, and while Isabela has sailed through her fair share of typhoons, none made their mark quite like this one did.

The tumultuous ocean, the uncontrollable winds, the horrifying crack of lightning that split her eardrums and sent the mast crashing down onto the deck—all of it is a blur of adrenaline in Isabela’s memory. She remembers clinging desperately to the wheel, at first to try to steer the ship, but eventually just to have something to hold on to. She remembers the way it popped off its hinges and took her with it.

She and her crew all survived, luckily, albeit quite a bit worse for wear and having lost a few barrels of cargo. The paintings survived, miraculously, having been stored in a large, watertight crate. Her ship, however, was not as fortunate.

The Siren’s Call. Her baby. She had smashed against an outcrop of large, jagged rocks, launching them all onto the rough, unforgiving shore. When Isabela first looked up and saw the damage, the splintered mast, the torn sails hanging limply, it felt as if she’d been gutted, like she’d lost a part of her. _I don’t know if she can be fixed,_ Varric had said. Isabela almost slapped him.

As it turns out, she _can_ be fixed—for a price. There’s a shipbuilder in the town closest to where they wrecked, a quaint port city just off the coast of Wales, who offered to repair it as long as they could pay the fee. With all the damage sustained, it cost almost as much as it would to just have a new ship built. After a heated debate with her crew in which more than one suggested just stealing a new ship, they decided to just pay up. It wasn’t like they were short on money, anyway, even after losing some of their cargo.

So now Captain Isabela and her pirate crew have to search for things to do to pass the time while they wait for the Siren’s Call to be repaired. They spend their first few nights gambling and cheating at cards, easily winning back some of the money they had to spend on the ship. During the day, though, they all go off on their own, taking strolls through town or day-drinking to ward off the pain from their injuries. Isabela, for her part, always finds herself drawn back to the sea.

It’s been less than a week since the shipwreck, but she already misses sailing more than she misses her own mother (which is not much at all, but the point still stands). She misses the sea spray on her face, the view of endless ocean on the horizon, the gentle rocking of the boat on open water. For now, though, she contents herself with walking along the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her toes and watching crabs skitter across the sand.

It’s during one of these excursions, while she’s standing up to her knees alone in the water and breathing in the salty air, that Isabela notices something out in the distance.

The first thing that catches her attention is a splash, and when she squints, she can see droplets of saltwater flying up into the sky and then falling back down again. It’s probably a fish, she thinks, but if so, it’s quite a large one. Then she sees it: a green, fan-like tail at least the size of a dolphin’s. Every few seconds, it pops back up above the water with a splash, each time closer to Isabela than the last. By now she can see a dark silhouette beneath the surface, and it’s headed straight for her.

Isabela takes a few steps backward and reaches into her coin purse, where she’s stored a small but effective dagger. If this were a shark, she’d probably just run, but she has no idea _what_ this creature is. She’s never seen anything like it.

Before she can make a decision, a head pops up out of the water, and Isabela almost chokes in surprise.

It’s a girl.

Granted, she has strange markings, almost like tattoos, all over her face, and her ears are shaped like fins, but nonetheless, Isabela is undoubtedly staring at a person.

A person with a _fish tail_.

“Hello!” the girl says in a lilting Welsh accent. “Are you and your friends alright? I saw the shipwreck a few days ago. Nasty one, that was.”

For a few seconds, Isabela just stares, dumbfounded. Then, snapping back into reality, she shakes her head and replies, “I, uh—yes, we’re all fine. What is—who—what _are_ you?” If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was hallucinating, but she didn’t drink that much last night (the more sober she is, the better she is at cards), and she hasn’t drank at all today. Two equally distressing thoughts cross her mind: One, she _shouldn’t_ be hallucinating; and two, she’s fairly certain that she isn’t.

“Oh! Sorry,” the girl says. “I take it you’ve never met a mermaid before? I suppose you wouldn’t have; we mostly keep to ourselves.”

Isabela blinks a few times, but the girl—the _mermaid_ —doesn’t disappear. “No,” she says indignantly. “I’ve never even heard of you except for in stories. _Fictional_ stories. You know, mythology and such.”

“All stories contain some element of truth in them,” the girl replies, matter-of-fact.

Isabela frowns and thinks back to when she and her crew first ended up on the beach. _Captain, I know you’ll never believe me,_ Varric had said to her, _but I think I saw a...a siren or a mermaid or something._ When she called bullshit, he’d added, _I was underwater, and then I felt these soft, small hands grabbing my wrists and pulling me to shore. When I opened my eyes, I swear I saw some half-human, half-fish thing diving back into the sea._

She hadn’t taken him seriously, of course, but why would she? Even if she’d believed in mermaids, Varric is always making up fanciful tales; in fact, that’s about all he does. How was she to know that he might have actually been telling the truth for once in his life?

“You...you saved one of my crewmates,” she says out loud.

The girl nods. “Right, the stout one with all that chest hair.”

Isabela lets out a short bark of a laugh. “You _noticed_ that?”

The girl shrugs. “How could I not? He seemed to practically have it out on display. But I thought maybe the storm had just messed his clothes up.”

Isabela shakes her head. “No, he wears all his shirts like that.”

The girl puts her hands up to her mouth and giggles. Isabela can’t help the astonished smile that creeps onto her face. She’s having a conversation with a _mermaid_ , and quite a beautiful one at that.

“Oh!” the girl says suddenly. “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Merrill.”

It’s a lovely name, even lovelier when she says it with that pretty voice of hers. “You can call me Isabela,” Isabela says. “Well. Technically it’s _Captain_ Isabela, but I don’t exactly have a ship to captain right now.”

Merrill grimaces. “Yeah, it was in pretty bad shape last I saw it. Is it getting fixed up? I noticed the shipbuilder investigating it the other day.”

“It is,” Isabela says, and then she laughs again as realization strikes her. “Do you know what I named it? I named it _the Siren’s Call_.”

Merrill snorts. “See, you were bound to meet one of us sooner or later.”

Isabela takes another few steps backward and sits down in the shallow tides, not even caring that she’s getting ocean water and wet sand on her clothes. Merrill swims up to her and lies down on her side a few paces ahead of her, letting the waves crash over her.

Up close, Isabela can see the way her torso gradually shifts from human to fish. The lower half of her body is one long, large fish tail that shimmers with bright green scales. Her top half is the same as a human’s, save for the ears. Isabela can’t help but notice that Merrill isn’t wearing any kind of covering, not that she really expected her to.

“Must be nice,” she says, eyeing her companion’s chest, “being able to just bare your whole self like that. We humans have _societal norms_ that make it _socially unacceptable_ for me to run around nude. Or even just in my smallclothes.”

Merrill giggles and makes no move to cover her breasts. “So I’ve heard.”

For a moment, they both just stare, each taking the other in. Then Isabela asks about the thing that’s been on her mind the moment Merrill stuck her head out of the water.

“So mermaids are real, huh?”

Merrill smiles. “Still in disbelief? That makes sense. Like I said, we’re quite reserved. We’ve been hiding for thousands of years, right under you humans’ noses. We’ve seen what your kind can do when you discover something strange or different. Besides, for a long time there was never really much reason for our paths to cross, us living in the ocean and you all living on land.”

Isabela narrows her eyes. “Then why did you save Varric? Why are you even talking to me?”

“We save sailors every once in a while,” Merrill explains. “They’re usually unconscious by that time anyway, or they think whatever they saw or felt was a trick of the mind, especially when they’re alone. As for why I’m talking to you…” She drums her fingers thoughtfully against the wet sand. “You seemed...different. I saw the way you’d sit out here for hours, just staring at the sea. I could tell you longed for it. You reminded me of...well, of a mermaid. You belong to the ocean, just like we do.”

Isabela’s mouth curls into a soft smile. “I suppose you’re right, Merrill,” she says, staring dreamily into the distance. “I suppose you’re right.”

After a short pause, Merrill adds, “Your looks didn’t hurt, either.”

That snaps her back immediately, and when she glances back over at the seemingly innocent sea maiden, Isabela notices a playful glint in her wide green eyes.

The smile on her face shifts into a delighted smirk. Two can play at that game. “Tell me, kitten,” she says, the nickname springing to her lips and sounding perfect as soon as it leaves her mouth, “how would one go about pleasuring a mermaid?”


End file.
